Page 35 of Finding Mr. July

There’s a flash of something behind his rigid stance, and as I stare at him it crystallizes not into the anger it looks like at first glance, but something softer—worry.

Nick worries him. Oh my God, he’s jealous.

I go to him as this dawns on me. “From Rachel. Because they’re dating,” I say.

“That’s where he’s heard of you. I’ve only met him once. ”

Jonathan’s forehead smooths out. “Rachel,” he says, understanding dawning.

“Did I hear my name?” The woman in question comes around the path using a colorful umbrella as a walking stick.

“Hey, friend.” I give her a smile and point. “Nick’s over there. We’ll be set up in a few. When is Aroon getting here?”

“I told him eleven since you said ten thirty for Nick.”

“Perfect.”

Rachel goes off to join her guy, and I turn back to Jonathan, who is looking a bit sheepish.

“Before you say anything—” he starts, but I’m faster.

“What exactly went through your head when you saw me and Nick talking?” I try to keep a serious face, but I’m sure the smugness I’m feeling shines through.

“It wasn’t like that,” Jonathan says. “I was…” He scratches his hair and looks off toward the bridge.

“Jealous,” I fill in, helpful that I am.

“No.” Jonathan’s protest comes fast but without a convincing delivery.

I cock an eyebrow to encourage him to rephrase.

He stares at me for a long moment. “Look, since I know we’re not supposed to be, I’m sticking with no for the sake of… you know.” He reaches for my hand. “It was stupid. I was being stupid. I’m sorry. I think how we left things this morning set me on edge, and I saw red. I’m usually not like that.”

I glance over my shoulder to where Nick and Rachel are walking close together in conversation. They’re in their own world, so I take the opportunity to sneak into Jonathan’s arms. “It’s okay,” I tell him. “You get one pass.”

“I know I have no right to feel that way, just so you know.” He kisses my hair. “I’ll do better.”

“Okay.” I hug him tight despite having no business feeling good that some small part of him had a proprietary urge about me. I need to do better, too. Stay the course. This is not the time to blur the lines.

“Get on with the shoot?” he asks.

I free myself and nod. “Let’s. After you apologize to Nick, too.”

Jonathan does so with no hard feelings, and while he instructs Cowboy Nick on how to pose, Rachel and I watch from a bench off to the side.

“He was so excited about his getup,” Rachel says. “It’s cute, but…”

My mind wanders. For almost four weeks, I’ve done my best to make this happen. I’ve been proactive, organized…

“But?” I say absent-mindedly. I’ve adapted when things didn’t go my way. And I’ve come too far to give up now. But what if no one returns my calls today?

“… the same thing out of life right now, you know.” Rachel looks at me as if expecting an answer.

“Right.” I nod.

“You have no idea what I just said, do you?” She purses her lips.

She knows me too well. “Sorry. Got distracted. You were saying?”

Her eyes narrow. “That’s not like you.”

I tell her about Robert canceling. “So I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

“I see.”

We watch Nick and Jonathan for a minute. Nick is striking every farmstead pose he can think of—elbows on the bridge railing, boot heel against a tree trunk. He even attempts to lie down on his back on the grass with his hat covering his face but jumps up quickly as the damp seeps in.

“I know you’re against it,” Rachel says quietly next to me, “but there’s always your brother. Desperate times…”

I’m about to inform her that he’s already said no, but a memory from last night stops me. He and Ava did eat dinner together after I talked to her, and if I helped, then maybe Jude won’t be mad at me anymore. And if he’s not mad at me anymore…

Rachel’s right. He’s my last chance. I swipe open my phone.

“What? You’re actually doing it? He’s going to be in the calendar?”

“Let’s see, shall we? But before you get all excited, let me remind you that you are dating Nick.” I nod in the direction of the men.

“Very casually. We’re not exclusive.”

I send the question off to him. Please, please, please , I end it. I’d owe you big-time.

“Nick is fun, but he’s a boy,” Rachel continues.

I chuckle. “Last I checked, Jude was also a boy.”

“No. Jude is a man.” Rachel’s eyes glitter. “There’s a difference.”

I don’t deign to answer that, but watching Jonathan’s intense focus and the way he moves with the camera to get Bo’s attention—especially knowing what it was like to have that camera aimed at me, the way it made me feel seen—I know she’s right. There is a difference.

“Get one of Bo holding the hat,” I call to him.

Jonathan flashes me a smile and a thumbs-up.

“Speaking of men,” Rachel says at my side, “be real with me—what are you actually doing with him?”

“What do you mean?”

“You two looked real cozy earlier.”

My cheeks heat. “So?”

“So, he’s into you, and you’re leaving soon. Do you see it going anywhere other than down heartbreak highway?”

I let out a sputtered protest. “As much as we lo—um, like each other, we both know it’s temporary. That the timing is wrong. We’re on the same page.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And even if that wasn’t the case, he’s stuck here. He’s not allowed to fly, his dad depends on him a lot for getting around, his job is here, and now he’s adopted a dog.”

She startles at the last bit. “A dog? No, let’s put a pin in that.

But really, the rest are only excuses.” She starts counting on her fingers.

“His job, you say? The one he doesn’t like?

Not a sticking point. People get off the no-fly list all the time.

Is there a process? Maybe, but it’s not impossible. And his dad—ever heard of rideshare?”

“You sound just like him,” I say. “Wayne, I mean. Jonathan’s dad. He said something similar.”

Rachel’s eyes widen. “You’ve met his dad?”

“By chance. Calm down.”

But as Jonathan and Nick wrap up, it does occur to me that maybe, just maybe, the reasons why Jonathan and I have decided to live solely in the present aren’t as strong as we think they are, and that, as a logical conclusion, maybe there are possibilities we are overlooking.

If we wanted to see possibilities, that is.

Is there a chance there’s a future where the two of us work out?

The question percolates as Aroon and his mutt, Cricket, replace Nick and Bo. Aroon is a huge guy with roots in Norway and Thailand, who starts by apologizing for being out of shape despite muscles that would make a prized bull jealous.

“I’m between bodybuilding competitions,” he says. “Bad timing.”

I assure him that he’ll do just fine for the calendar and make small talk about how he knows Dennis while Jonathan decides on a new spot to set up.

“So when will the calendar be out?” Aroon asks. “Before Christmas? It would help with shopping for sure.”

“If all goes well, orders will be up next week,” I tell him.

“That soon? Cool.”

“Yeah, you’re one of our last guys. The project is almost done.”

“Okay, let’s roll,” Jonathan says, interrupting.

Despite Nick and Rachel having left together, he still seems off today, like there’s something else bothering him.

That surly reticence from a month ago is creeping back into his demeanor little by little.

He insists nothing is wrong, but he’s only been shooting for five minutes when he gestures for me to come over.

Without a word, he points to the screen, indicating for me to have a look.

It’s a series of maybe twenty images, half with Aroon flexing and Cricket at his feet and the other half of Aroon doing push-ups with Cricket on his back.

“What the heck is he…?” I lean closer to the screen.

In every one of the pictures, Aroon looks great, but Cricket has his tongue plastered to either Aroon’s leg or his head while making eye contact with the camera.

It’s like he’s been captured in flagrante by paparazzi, and now the evidence of his degeneracy is on display for all to see.

“How am I supposed to work with this?” Jonathan asks.

“Maybe Aroon uses delicious lotions?” I suggest. “Try something else.”

Jonathan mutters a quiet tirade about it being impossible.

“That’s never been a problem before.” I stare at him a moment. “What’s going on with you today? If you’re still in your feels about Nick, I’ll have a problem with that.”

He balks. “Of course not.”

I place a hand on his arm. “Then please make this work. We’re running out of time.”

“You don’t think I know that?”

My lips part in surprise at his tone, and he must notice because he backtracks immediately. “Sorry, that was unnecessary,” he says, voice softer. “It’s just hard to…” His jaw clams up. “Never mind.”

“What’s hard? Talk to me.”

He looks away. “It’s just a lot.” He gestures vaguely to our surroundings. “But of course I’ll make it work.”

I search his cadence for something disingenuous but find only sincerity. “Okay,” I say. Then, because I still feel like I’ve swallowed something jagged, “It’s not us, right? We’re fine?”

He nods several times. “Of course. Let’s just get through this, okay? I’ll shake it off.”

He returns to the shoot, and I decide everyone is allowed a bad day. Thankfully, before I can dwell further, my phone buzzes with a message from Jude. It’s a bulleted list in three parts:

· Deep clean the fridge/freezer

· Scoop out the gutters

· Sort and pack up the attic

I stare at the message with a frown. Your to-do list for this weekend?

His response is immediate: What you owe me if I do this.

Oh.

Well, it’s not like I have a choice. Deal. Thanks, big brother . Then I add, It’ll have to be tomorrow. Get a haircut.

You can’t hear me, but I’m grumbling , comes his response.

I smile, victorious, and let out a long breath. Twelfth guy booked. Like so many times before, Jude has come to my rescue.